The Cadet
by Katzedecimal
Summary: Mainframe's shortage of unrelated Sprites is a real problem for a v1.6 back-up copy like Enzo, but he's not the only one-of-a-kind who's lonely. NSFW, no-sex sexual themes. Written long before Season 4 existed.


It was a dark and stormy cycle. Enzo watched the rain sheet down the diner window without really seeing it. He sighed and scratched his hair.

Just past v1.6, Enzo was nearly as tall as his original version, though no where near as wide. Dot said he reminded her of a dream she'd once had. His beard was starting to grow - downing his face with a light shadow that required shaving every few cycles - but he was still a lanky youth, with long limbs and adolescent clumsiness. He glanced at his reflection, still feeling sheepish. It was a long one, fifteen stitches to close. Matrix and Dot had flipped out but it wasn't even as if he'd gotten it honourably in a game or fighting Viruses. No, he'd lost control of his zipboard, smashed through a plate glass window carried by a couple of workmen, and plowed into a watermelon stand. He hadn't lost an eye, but it seemed to be the fate of male Matrixes to have a scar on their faces - even if Dad's was just a brow-pierce gone awry.

He tuned out the voices on the other side of the diner. When Matrix was v1.0, a game had come down that had had AI game sprites in it. He'd found AndrAIa. Enzo wasn't so lucky. He'd hoped and prayed that someone would come to Mainframe, or that Dot would download him to the Guardian Academy in the Supercomputer.. but no. And Mainframe didn't have many females who weren't Binomes. But it did have some. He thought about her again. She had such long legs and her hips swayed hypnotically when she walked. Her breasts were full and pressed insistantly against her clothing protocol. She carried herself with self-posessed grace and smiled a slightly predatory smile. And the way she handled her weapons! Ohhh, he'd never dare say anything to her... but a guy could dream, couldn't he?

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. The door opened and a few more Binomes scurried in, seeking shelter from the rain. They ignored Cecil's usual admonishment and found seats at a booth, gratefully ordering coffee and soup and other warming nourishments. Enzo watched them dispassionately, then turned back to staring out the window. On a night like tonight, delivery orders would come in. Not only would he be bored, he'd be soggy. Oh well. At least people tipped well when it rained.

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. The door opened again and Enzo's heart stopped. _She_ sauntered in. Each step was poetry in motion, her leg pendulumed perfectly from her hip. Her hands swayed at her sides. The heels of her boots clicked against the floor. She smiled at the Binomes who greeted her and leaned across the bar. "Cecil? I'd like to place an order," she said. The sound of her voice sent thrills down Enzo's spine. She was almost directly across from him. Bent over as she was, he had an unspoiled view of her perfect bitmap. Every curve, every highlight and shadow, was his to gaze upon. So, too, were her long thighs and perfect calves, tapering to narrow ankles and small feet. She cocked her head, listening to Cecil's grouchy intonations, unaware of the admirer behind her. Evidently she couldn't hear the server properly, because she straightened up and crossed to the other side of the bar. Enzo tried not to blush - now she was facing him, folding her arms underneath her so she could lean across the bar again. As she dictated her order to the server, Enzo tried not to stare. The position had pushed her breasts up and in, emphasizing them even more. Enzo turned back towards the window, where he could gaze at her reflection. Her odd eyebrows lifted and flexed expressively as she spoke. "That's all, then," he heard her say. Her voice... wasn't exactly music to his ears, but with its odd inflections and slight accent, it made him want to listen. She stepped around the bar, having finished up with Cecil. Enzo held his breath as she walked right past him. She winked at him, her long lashes fluttering against her cheek. "See you later," she smiled dazzlingly, making his heart trip-hammer. She waggled her fingers at him in a wave, then sashayed out. Enzo's eyes followed her until she vanished from sight.

"BOY! Where are you?"

Enzo jumped, jolted out of his reverie. "Duh! I'm right here, Cecil," he snapped irritably.

"Don't be rude!" the server said, causing most of the people within hearing to break up laughing. Enzo smirked. Cecil zipped over and dumped a large paper bag on the table in front of him, "Take this to the Shades and be quick about it"

"Huh??" Enzo boggled. The Shades? He'd been listening but obviously not hearing! "This is a delivery? But she never gets delivery, she always does take-out!" When she ordered here at all.

"She is in the middle of a project," Cecil sniffed, "Which probably means trouble for somebody. Now, vite vite"

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'm going..." Enzo grabbed his hat and jammed it on his head, trying to conceal his jumping heart under a layer of reluctance to go out into the rain.

* * *

The Shades was in the Beverly Hills sector, but on a lower level, far beneath the surface. It was a seedy area, populated by people who lived on the fringes of Mainframe society. Once, before the restart, it had been populated by nulls as well. The restart had erased the nulls. It had also erased Lost Angles, leaving its mistress homeless and alone. She had settled here, in a gloomy mansion of Gothic design and indeterminate age. The forbidding door loomed before him and its tarnished brass gargoyle doorknocker leered at him derisively. The name on the plate read "Hexadecimal" 

Enzo stared at it for several nanoseconds before he'd worked up the nerve to lift the knocker and let it fall. It gave a pathetic thud, as insignificant as he was. He tried again, then rapped on the heavy door. No doorbell. How was he to make his presence known? He was about to try again when the door swung open. With the amount of crustation on the hinges, he'd expected a heavy creak, but there was none. The door swung silently onto blackness. Enzo swallowed then stepped through. "Um, hello? I have a delivery," he called, wincing as his voice cracked and ended with a high squeak. Ugh. He knew that he would eventually have a nice, deep voice like Matrix's, but right now it had a tendancy to crack soprano. He peered into the darkness. She tended to appear eyes-first, Bob had said. It was supposed to increase her intimidation effect - and indeed, it'd given him nightmares when he was a little Sprite - but Bob had found it reassuring. When in the Virus's Lair, if you could see her eyes, you knew where she was.

Bob wouldn't be reassured now. There was no sign of her. "Hello?" he called again, stepping forward into the gloom. He stepped out into the foyer. "Argh!" He threw up his hands to shield his eyes, but the sudden light dimmed to a more tolerable level.

"Sorry about that," he heard her say as spots swam on his optics, "It always starts bright. A bit of a pain but I haven't had the patience to trouble-shoot it."

"That's okay," he replied, blinking frantically. Soon his vision cleared. She sat - or rather, reclined - on a plush chaise longue. She yawned, as though just waking from a nap, then stretched like a CAT. She used the energy of the stretch to sit up, arching her back and neck back, arms stretching her shoulders back and thrusting her chest forward and up. Bracing her hands behind her, she swung her legs off the chaise and onto the floor, stretching each one in turn to its full length. Enzo stared at his toes, glancing furtively as she rose to her feet. The click of her heels made him look up. "You brought my supper," she smiled as she strode slowly across the floor between them, "Thank you."

"Uh yeah, that's me," Enzo mumbled, watching the sway of her hips, "The Diner Delivery Boy." Oh sheesh...

"How sweet. What do I owe you?"

"Um, the bill's in the bag." His heart skipped a beat as his fingers brushed hers as she took the package.

"I know what the bill is," she said, smiling pleasantly, "What about you?"

Enzo swallowed, forcing himself to look at her glowing green eyes. She used to tower over him. He was surprised to find that he was now slightly taller than her. "Um.. me?" he blinked.

"Well, yes! Surely you get something. They don't make you go out into the rain for nothing, do they?"

"Ohhh that's okay... I like it." Oh brother! Could he get any more lame? "Uh.. it gives me something to do..."

"But on a night like tonight?"

"Um... yeah... We get a lot of calls for delivery."

"Do you have to go right away? You can at least stay here where its warm, can't you?" Enzo's heart pounded; ohhhhh how he would love to stay! "I can teleport you back, if you get another call," she continued reasonably.

"Um, okay," Enzo stammered. Hexadecimal smiled.

* * *

Six hours ago, Mainframe had crashed and restarted. Those events had wiped away everything Hexadecimal had known. Her home, her nulls, her pet -- gone in a blaze of beautiful light and chaos that had delighted her at the time, then filled her with sorrow when she realized her loss. Then there had been the war against Daemon and the return of Megabyte, then the game that had fallen while the system's defenders lay helpless in medical. A sector had been nullified. The loss of people had been tragic, of course, but the resulting nulls had brought Hexadecimal some solace. The loneliness and boredom often threatened to overwhelm her: With them, and with the games, and with Phong's gentle patience, she could cope. 

Then she had become aware of the boy watching her. She had seen how he stared at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She had noticed how he would turn himself, to watch her reflections in glass or mirrors. And she had noticed that the boy was not a boy any longer.

She had put it to the test. Normally she tried to catch Bob's attention -- a moot point, at best. Now she tried to catch Enzo's. When she was sure that the boy was as lonely as she was, she had begun to plan. Enzo shifted nervously on the sofa, across the coffee table from Hex's chaise longue. He didn't know what to say. What do you say? "Would you like some tea?" Hexadecimal offered politely.

The question took him off guard. "Huh? Uh... what about your supper?"

"It'll keep," she shrugged, "What do you say?"

"Um.. uh... sure." User, could he say anything without stammering? His mouth went dry as she reached up, her breasts nearly lifting from her leather corset, and plucked a sterling silver tea tray out of thin air, already laden with cups, pot and matching cream and sugar set. She set them down on the low table between them. "It's vanilla tea," she said and leaned over to give it a stir. Which gave Enzo a stir. He shifted in his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from the yawning crevace of her bosom. She inhaled, causing the crimson flesh to swell and press against the leather. Enzo squirmed again; all of a sudden he regretted wearing these jeans. "Cream?" she offered.

"Yeah." Got that and plenty of it, eeesh.

"Sugar?"

"Definately," Enzo sighed. Definately needed sugar. "Sugar" was Mouse's euphamism for interface; she said it whenever he'd walked into the room and she didn't want to deviate from her topic. Deviate. Yeah they'd think he was a deviate, lusting after a Virus! She poured out the tea, inhaling its fragrance and causing another groundswell. Enzo squirmed again; oh great, he was getting hard. The gentle rhythmic tinkling of spoon on ceramic should have been soothing. Instead, to Enzo's preprogrammed ear, it was too rhythmic. clink-clink-clink-clink. He braced his elbow on the arm of the couch and jammed his chin into his hand. His jeans were feeling two sizes too small.

She reached across the table to offer him the cup. He took it and her fingers lingered on his for a nanosecond before withdrawing; his heart skipped a beat. Willing his hand not to shake, he sipped the fragrant sweet liquid, staring in front of him. She had bent over again to fix her own cup. "Thanks," he squeaked, then coughed and cleared his throat, "Uh.. I mean.. .thank you." Ooo! That sounded better!

Evidently Hexadecimal thought so too. "You'll sound just like the other one," she observed, smiling, "We won't be able to tell you apart."

Enzo wilted. "Yeah I know. I'm trying to avoid that."

"Is that why you're growing the little ponytail? I like it."

He grinned, feeling a glow of pleasure spread through him. "Yup," he confirmed. She leaned back into her chair, stretching out one long leg before crossing it over the other. Enzo closed his eyes and sipped again. To think he used to call her 'Hexadismal'...! She used to terrify him; now she captivated him. Bob had always said she wasn't really evil. She was being very kind to him now, giving him tea and keeping him out of the rain. He sighed inwardly: She also seemed to be the only one who recognised that he wasn't a little Sprite anymore and she'd picked up that he didn't want to be exactly like Matrix. Not that Matrix was bad or anything, but he and Enzo were... different. He became aware that Hexadecimal had spoken to him. "I'm sorry... huh?" Hastily he straightened out of his slouch, the tea waving dangerously in his cup.

She smiled indulgently, "I said, what made you decide to grow it?"

"Uh?.. the ponytail? Oh.. um... to tell you the truth.. um, it was after the accident," he replied sheepishly.

She tilted her head inquisitively, "The accident? The one with the watermelons?"

He had to grin, "Heh.. yeah. I didn't lose the eye, but still.. the scar's too close for comfort. I mean, its over the same side and everything."

"How did you get it? I never did hear," she asked, leaning forward with interest.

"I lost control of my zipboard. Some binomes were carrying a sheet of plate glass and I didn't see it. I plowed right into it. It was a stupid accident."

"How did you wipe out? What caused you to lose control?"

Besides a beautiful Virus sitting across from me? Oh User... "Uhh.. I was... trying to surf the wind currents," he admitted, "I didn't do very well."

"On a zipboard?" she repeated. Leaning further forward, she reached across and lightly stroked his face, rubbing her fingertips lightly over the scar across his eye. Enzo sucked in his breath. His whole world came to a crashing halt, focussing solely on that featherlight touch. His eyes closed. Her hand was slick and her insectile joints felt strange on his skin. The tips of her claws prickled lightly. Very gently, she traced the edges of the scar, over the sensitive skin of his eyelid and down over the top of his cheek. "Silly boy," he heard her say, over the pounding of his heart and of his groin, "That's not how to do it. I could show you how to ride."

He opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't: Her breasts were maybe eighteen angstroms away. The crimson swells and deep valley filled his field of vision, rising and falling as she breathed. The sight caused an immediate surge to his input device, already constricted by his jeans. He shifted and an arrow of pain shot through him -- crashed seams! A strangled sound escaped his throat.

Her fingertips left his face and she sat down again on her chaise longue, "Its healed well."

Enzo just nodded, trying to control his breathing. His mouth was dry. He moistened it again with a sip of tea but the sweet liquid did nothing to clear the opulent, spicy aroma from his nostrils. "That's a nice perfume you're wearing," he said presently.

Hexadecimal tilted her head at him with a politely blank expression, "I don't wear perfume."

"Ohhh... " he blushed. She didn't? Then what was... That was her?? The aroma that clung to her was spicy and heady and exotic and ever so slightly musky... that was her? He took a long swig of tea.

"More?" she offered.

"Uhhh sure.. Please." Enzo blushed again, feeling like a fiend: He had said that just because he knew she would bend forward again to pour it. Her breasts were so large and full and he longed to cup them in his hands. His heart pounded as she replenished his tea. What would it be like to nuzzle those crimson swells? What did her metallic skin feel like? If she tasted like she smelled... He shifted and crossed his legs, accidently kicking the cup she offered him. "AAAAAH!" he yelped. Hot tea splashed over his thighs.

Instantly she was beside him, her eyes yellow with concern. "Are you alright?" she asked urgently, laying her hand on his forearm.

The liquid was cooling rapidly. The sensation was more of shock than of pain, he realized. "Uhm.. uhm.. yeah... It wasn't that hot," he gasped out. Oh great, now it looked like he'd... oh great, just great. "I'm okay. My jeans are tough, and it wasn't that hot. Er, did I break your cup?" he asked, giving the cup a quick inspection. No damage. Phew! Her hand was still on his arm. Glancing a little beyond, he saw her thigh beside his. Long and red, dressed in a fishnet stocking that rose above the top of her thigh-high belted boot. Her toe seemed so very far away, at the far end of a luscious expanse. He looked up. She was so very close to him, so very concerned for him. Her crimson lips shone, stark against her smooth porcelain face. "Uhhhhh... I'll get it this time," he gabbled. He could barely keep his hands from shaking, reaching out to pour the tea into his cup. Oh User she was so beautiful! He was a fiend, a total fiend, for thinking of her this way! She was being nice to him! And he was just a kid! -- user and programmer, she was older than Dot! Gripping the cup firmly, he brought it to his lips and drank deeply.

"Would you like some ice cream?" Hexadecimal offered.

"Huh? Ice cream? Uh.. sure," Enzo replied, wincing as his voice cracked again. Sheesh, he sounded so eight-bit. Wordlessly Hexadecimal reached into the air and plucked out two ice cream cones. She handed one to him. Her fingers lingered on his. Ice cream. Huh! - that'd cool him off a bit, Enzo thought wryly. And give him something to do with his tongue besides trip over it. He tasted it - cherry cheesecake. Mmm, good stuff!

_Ohhhhhhhhhhh, crash it,_ he thought, licking the cone. He must've done something Bad to deserve this. He had to have. There was no other reason why he would be sitting here in an empty house, in the middle of the cycle, with a beautiful Virus whose lips he longed to kiss. Her intoxicating aroma was penetrating his brain, hitting him like incense. She was so near, so close. He wondered what she would do if he put his arm around her. Spam, he wasn't being a very good guest. What did she like to do?..besides cause chaos... Paint. Play Pong with Phong - although it was more like Combat Pong, whatever, Phong loved it. And she played in the Game Cubes, working off her Chaotic tendancies in shoot-em-ups. There, he could ask her about that. He turned to her, "How did you learn...to..."

Just... how long _was_ her tongue?

It didn't just lick the cone, it wrapped itself around it! He watched, entranced, as Hexadecimal's tongue flicked around the ball and scraped off a bit of cream. Then, the slick grey organ darted back between her ruby lips. As the process repeated itself, Enzo's imagination replaced the cone with a shaft of rigid green flesh, swollen with need and craving to be caressed in just such a fashion. As she licked, she pushed the ball of ice cream down into the cone, filling it, then she licked around the edges, driving her long, long tongue down into the cone. Melted ice cream trickled out the bottom and formed a pearly drop...

Enzo pitched forward, coughing hard and convincingly. Fire flashed along his nerves, raged in his loins and bursting out in a blaze that made him shudder. He coughed again, hiding his face and his spasms under a fake coughing-fit. Suddenly he was very glad he had spilled that tea! He leaned against the arm of the sofa, panting and getting his breath back. Oh user... what a total Basic moron he was! Now his jeans were sticky... "Uhm... uh... went down the wrong way," he managed.

"I could show you the right way," Hexadecimal whispered. Enzo stared. His heart trip-hammered, thudding so hard in his chest it made little sparks dance in the corners of his vision. Had he heard that right? "You're dripping cream," she said softly.

"Uh.. uh...uh... oh, the ice cream!" he squeaked, his voice breaking again. He cleared his throat but it had turned to sandpaper. He froze as her fingers snaked into his hair. This time he could not control the shaking. The need was naked in his eyes.

"Enzo..."

He turned to her.

_**pwing!**_ "Enzo!"

Enzo shot a terrified look at the vidwindow but its back was to them. _No, no, no, not **now!**_ Of all times, user and programmer, not **NOW!** He got up and went to stand in front of it, praying his face showed nothing unusual, "Hi Dot."

"Where have you been? We have another delivery order at the Diner. They need it right away!"

_No! No! No! No! No! No! No! Nulls, **NO!**_ "Just been staying out of the rain," he replied. Iron will kept the defeated disappointment out of his voice, "I'll be right there."

"Okay! Don't be long!" The vidwindow _pwing_ed shut.

Enzo was silent for several nanoseconds. "I have to go," he said at last. He couldn't look at Hexadecimal.

"I know," she replied. She stood up and crossed to him, "I'll teleport you back. I said I would."

He nodded in silence, staring at the floor. She walked with him to the foyer of the old house. "AH!" he yelped, once again blinded by the too-bright light. She dimmed it down. "Um.. um... " Enzo swallowed, feeling greatly daring, "Maybe I could... fix that for you.. sometime?"

Hexadecimal smiled.


End file.
